


Within his Grasp

by sunflower1343



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7123759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower1343/pseuds/sunflower1343
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoh wins it all by giving everything up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Within his Grasp

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before Yoh had a character, and I thought it would be interesting if he was a very clever man playing a long game for the one prize he really wanted (I was kind of hoping he'd be a former crime lord indebted to Asami for his life. Ah well.). Originally written June 2007 for Alice Montrose's birthday.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~

"Feilong-sama." The tone was quiet and respectful, yet demanding.

"Again?" 

"Yes. It's the price we agreed upon."

Silk slithered past his shoulders and down from under his long black fall of hair, pooling at his feet. He stepped from it, watching the eyes before him darken with lust, trying to see what was behind them. He knew now it was all a façade.

"How do you wish it tonight? What game have we not yet played?"

The face before him was grave. But then, it always was. Or almost always. To his horror, he now looked forward to the rare times when the man's composure broke, especially if he was the cause. It almost broke now, almost, but not quite.

"It hasn't been a game to me, Feilong-sama."

Feilong pivoted gracefully and walked to the bed, watching the face behind him in a mirror on the wall. He paused, then posed, lifting his heavy mass of hair with his hands, baring his back and neck, offering vulnerability.

_Ah. There._

A flicker in those serious eyes.

_Who are you? Show me._

The hair slid from his fingers as he bent across the bed, running his hands down the cover invitingly. "You're wrong, you know. You've played the deepest game of us all. And won. But the price you paid...."

Somber clothing befitting the somber man was efficiently discarded onto the floor. The man should have looked silly in just his white briefs and black socks, but for some reason Feilong's heart beat faster. 

"It was worth it." 

He tried not to watch closely as the rest of the clothes were removed, but his eyes were drawn to the slim muscular form. He talked to distract himself. "Worth being branded traitor for life? Should I be flattered?"

The man looked aside, away. "I would never expect you to be."

"And if I were?"

The other's eyes flew back to his.

"Not that I am."

His breath rushed in at the anger he saw, just for a moment. Pleasure coursed through his body. Not at causing pain, not here, but at causing a reaction, any reaction. He regretted any pain, mostly, and moved to soothe it. "You know I dislike flattery in all forms. I take no pleasure in it."

A calm nod was his only answer, irritating him slightly. That and the other getting onto the bed. It sunk as the man crawled upon it to the center, his lean muscles shifting under a clear smooth skin. The memory of how those muscles had felt under his hands aroused Feilong, noticeably. He pretended the erection wasn't there. "But, I must say, if ever a compliment were to turn my head, this one would be it."

His words, to his annoyance, were ignored and a hand was silently held out to him. He stared at it a moment. So many options. His natural inclination was to ignore the command stubbornly. Yet he stepped forward and took the outstretched hand because it pleased him to do so, allowing himself to be pulled down onto the deep soft mattress. Perhaps he would find answers there.

They lay on their sides, each gazing at the other, each waiting for the other to move. Despite the situation, Feilong could not contain his curiosity. 

"Do you not fear him?"

The eyes across from him blinked. "No, nor should you."

He sat up, anger racing through him. _How dare he?_ "Do not forget to whom you speak."

Yet all anger abruptly drained away at the completely unexpected sight of amusement in the other's eyes. Not subservience. Not shyness. But finally, a glimpse of the true eyes of the man who had been capable of taking everything from Asami's grasp, and then graciously returning Akihito to him as he sent him packing. The man who then handed control of it all to Feilong, for a price. He hadn't understood how it had been possible. Now he thought maybe he did. And he couldn't help noticing the way his breath had quickened.

"Feilong, how could I ever forget who you are, when it's for you I've done everything?"

"Oh? Nothing was for yourself?" Feilong gazed down from his superior height, trying to keep his eyes cool, knowing from the other's reaction that he was failing. He suddenly found himself on his back, looking up into the darkest of eyes. How could he have missed their depth?

"Only this." A demanding mouth came down upon his, taking, as Feilong had taken last night. He struggled a little, unsure of himself despite his obvious pleasure, and the kiss stopped. "A taste of what's to come, once you accept it. Feilong-sama." The mask was back.

Feilong felt relief, but also a little regret at the loss of the glimpse he'd had at something both tantalizing and terrifying. The mystery was only increasing, pulling him in. Yet the other had to be put in his place. "Perhaps I never will."

"Perhaps. But you've never been a coward, and so I think that unlikely." The other rolled them both over, putting himself on the bottom, pulling Feilong's mouth down onto his, opening himself above and below. For the first time Feilong didn't see it as surrender to him, so much as a gift from one who was sure of his masculinity. He was now very much aware of the dangers hidden within the man underneath him, a man not lessened in the least by his sexual behavior.

It was confusing, but tempting. Perhaps such a thing was possible. "It will not happen." He lied, though he didn't know it at the time.

"Whatever you wish... Feilong-sama." This time his name was whispered with an urgent intimacy that told him it had become a pet name rather than the distant title he was used to it being. It gave him a small thrill, knowing he would always hear that in it whenever it was spoken by this man, even in public. Knowing that he alone would have seen the man who was actually saying it.

"Whatever I wish..." Feilong's hands became insistent, both taking and giving, his thoughts flying even as his body demanded everything.

What did he wish? Asami was gone, at least for the foreseeable future. Akihito... was nice, someone he enjoyed but could live without. Baishe was firmly under his control, the Russian spies wiped out by this man's efforts, Arbatov off whimpering in a cold corner of Siberia for his audacity. All was as he wanted it. Except, perhaps, that he might like to unravel the mystery that was unfolding before him.

A slight tug at his hair made him realized he'd paused in his attentions. "Your thoughts are not here. Where are they?"

He wasn't about to say. "I wish for nothing."

The hips under his rolled slightly. "Nothing?"

Well yes, there was that. What would it be like, to have a relationship with someone he was quickly coming to realize might well be an equal? Which would mean he would no longer be controllable. He laughed shortly, watching the eyes looking into his narrow in speculation. As if he'd ever been controllable, hiding so much from him all those years. 

Feilong had to admit that he found that just the slightest bit thrilling, such capabilities and devotion in one nicely disguised package. And really, he didn't need to trust the man to enjoy him. He'd found that out myriad ways from the time they'd consummated their bargain.

"I wish for nothing," he repeated, then he too ground their hips together, feeling the hardnesses that lay between them slide against one another. This was better than the boy. Much better. "But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy what I've been given."

"Then make love to me, Feilong-sama," came the low voice, with just the slightest hint of a growl.

"No," he whispered into a pale shell of an ear, delighting in the shivers his voice caused. "I will not make love."

The face that turned to him was blank, as always, but the dark eyes were soft as they searched his. "Will not? You cannot, you mean, because you don't yet understand what that is. But I will teach you Feilong-sama, until you know. And then..." His man's voice broke as he fought to remain passionless.

"And then...?" Feilong prompted, lightly scratching the sculpted chest with sharp fingernails, trying to get the mask to fall away and give him one more glimpse.

"And then..." said Yoh as he lifted his head to claim the lips for which he'd given up everything, speaking so softly Feilong wasn't sure of what he heard, "And then, Feilong, my love, I'll see that what you wish for is what's within your grasp."

 

 

~end~


End file.
